


Abstention (doing it wrong)

by kerithwyn



Series: Kink_Bingo 2012 [3]
Category: Fringe
Genre: Angst, Celibacy, Community: kink_bingo, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-25
Updated: 2012-10-25
Packaged: 2017-11-16 18:26:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerithwyn/pseuds/kerithwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Lincoln is not the town bicycle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Abstention (doing it wrong)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for kink_bingo 2012: virginity/celibacy. Season 2 Red’verse. Thanks to Elfin for a last-minute consult that gave this fic the twist it needed.
> 
> LINCOLN LEE: You're kidding me. You went on a date with 'Bug Girl'?  
> AGENT FRANCIS: Oh, you're so smug. You know, at least I make attempts. **You don't even try to go out.** ... Buddy, why don't you stop focusing on me and just admit... you've got a thing for Liv.  
>  \-- "Bloodline"

It’s _ridiculous,_ this state of affairs. Or lack of affairs, to be more accurate.

Olivia’s with Frank, she’s been with Frank since before Lincoln ever met her. One of these days there’s gonna be an engagement ring and then a wedding where he’ll have to stand and smile and be happy for her. And he will, he will be because if Liv’s happy he’s happy, but--

But he can’t stop wishin’ and hopin’, like Dusty sang. And waiting.

Which is dumb. Lincoln’s met Frank Stanton, knows how much he cares about Liv. The man adores her, that’s obvious. If anyone’s going to break up that relationship, it won’t be him.

Liv seems perfectly content too, even when Frank’s away on a CDC call for weeks at a time. It’s not that she doesn’t miss him, she’s just so self-sufficient. Maybe she even likes having time to herself.

After Lincoln kissed her that one time--pure adrenaline, no harm no foul, and she’d laughed it off--he’d sworn not to compound his mistake. Yeah, their banter gets pretty flirtatious sometimes, but he knows where the line is. Joking around on a case is the only way to stay sane in an insane world, and they both genuinely enjoy the teasing. It’s just, there are times--

He’d always thought that love at first sight was a dumb idea. Attraction, sure, infatuation absolutely. Dopamine flooding the brain, thousands of years of evolution brushed aside by a compelling chemical urge. 

Understanding the science didn’t lessen the attraction. Working with Liv on a daily basis didn’t diminish his interest. 

When it became clear that Liv was going to be off-limits, Lincoln tried to move on. Went out and tried to get past her. But no one laughed like she did, and worse, no one laughed at his dumb jokes like she did. No one had hair as red, or as sharp an eye, or as fast a tongue. No one *got* him like she did. Despite any number of offers, Lincoln went home alone every night.

Until it’d been three months since he’d had sex, and then six, and then a year.

Charlie would laugh himself sick if he knew.

Everyone he dates, however briefly, thinks he’s playing hard to get. It just turns out that Liv had tripped his trigger but good, and he didn’t know how to find the reset. 

\--well, no. His sex drive isn’t lacking in any way. Everything’s functioning just fine. Lincoln doesn’t have anything against random hook-ups or casual sex. It’s not a test or a vow. He just doesn’t want anyone but her. His libido’s become wholly focused toward one person and nothing his big head pronounces has any influence on his little head.

There’s a line between self-control and actively hindering self-denial and Lincoln knows he passed the former a long time ago. 

He goes home and jerks off. Tries not to think about her and fails. 

He’s also smart enough to know that his...fixation...isn’t healthy. The division shrinks were on call 24/7 and discreet, anything short of homicidal or suicidal urges kept strictly out of a Fringe agent’s official dossier. They’d heard everything before. A crush on a co-worker wouldn’t even rate.

(More than a crush.)

And, Jesus, he’d read more ridiculous articles on getting past someone than was healthy. (Nearly all of them written for women, but Lincoln could extrapolate.) Yeah, he knew there was nothing wrong with him. Yeah, he’d tried to find new hobbies to occupy his time. Yeah, he’d made mental lists of her faults, real and imagined. (Impulsive. Pushy. Stubborn. _Not interested in him._ ) 

Didn’t help. Part of him—he was smart enough to know this too—didn’t want it to. Which really was the fundamental problem. 

Because part of him--some perverse, previously unsuspected masochistic part of himself--kind of *likes* it. He can’t jerk off without thinking about her, only he doesn’t want to think about her because she’s his *partner* for chrissakes, so he holds off for as long as he can, until he’s aching for the touch of his own hand. When he finally gives in, it’s so good-- so intense--

And then the guilt hits, and he resolves to hold out again, and the cycle resets.

He’s turned celibacy into a kink. Go him. It’s true what they say: the real freaks are the ones working at Fringe Division.

**Author's Note:**

>  _That clumsy goodbye kiss could fool me,  
>  But I'm looking back over my shoulder  
> At you, happy without me._  
> \-- “Never Be Mine,” Kate Bush
> 
>  
> 
> Part of me feels like I need to make amends for writing Red!Lincoln as a pansexual slut of little morals _(yay little morals!)_ when evidence points to the contrary, as in the opening quote. It's entirely possible that Lincoln hadn't dated anyone since Liv joined the division and he was smitten.
> 
> The bingo square was a good excuse to get it out of my system. ;) (And not really satisfied with this one, but in the interest of making the bingo imma just gonna move on.)


End file.
